You're Never Too Young to Spy
by EatSleepReadWriteRepeat
Summary: Cammie has a new assignment: go undercover at high school and protect Zachary Goode from harm. It's hate at first sight for Cammie and Zach, and Cammie starts to fall for gorgeous, thoughtful Josh instead. But what happens when she starts to fall for Zach too? Who will she choose? And who exactly is after Zach? Are they even after him at all?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Okay, hello everyone! If you read my previous fic of the same name, you will know that I did, in fact, delete it. However, I changed my mind! I saved the chapters and it is now undergoing serious revision. I'm going to sort out the plot and everything. Please enjoy!**

I'm Cameron Ann Morgan and I go to Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. No one really calls me Cameron though. Well… unless I'm in trouble. And that does seem to be quite a lot. I have blue eyes and a very unique hair colour which I like to call dishwater blond.

Gallagher Academy isn't really a _school_ school, if you get what I mean. It's a school for spies. We learn how to fight; we learn how to go undercover. I must have learnt about a million different things here.

Spies like adventure. They like to be doing something, they like to be useful. But currently, this spy has nothing to do. _Nothing._ Nada.

I lay on my bed, staring dejectedly at the ceiling, while Liz taps away at her laptop, working on yet another scientific experiment. Her tiny frame is hunched over the keyboard, and she is intent on some new breakthrough discovery.

Macy, on the other hand, is catching up on her beauty sleep, as she likes to tell me. Her glossy black hair is fanned out over the pillow, and it's utterly unfair how she can look beautiful even when she's asleep. When she wakes up, her hair will be perfectly straight, and her clothes will not have a single crinkle. Sometimes, I really can't believe that I am friends with Macy McHenry.

Bex, for some reason, is nowhere to be seen. I remember her saying she needed to go and see my mom and Abby about something. She isn't back yet.

I shrug. I might as well go and look for her. She's probably done now anyway. What could be taking this long?

I carefully walk across the room, taking care not to step on the creaky floor board, so as not to incur the wrath of a sleep-deprived Macy and a 'lost track of thought' Liz.

I open the door as silently as I can. The corridors are dark and empty; it's quite late, I guess, so most people are going to be in their dorms by now. But you can never count on a Gallagher Girl. Any of them could be spying on me right now for all I know, with some hi-tech new gadget they've invented. That's the beauty of an all-girls spy school. It's all natural.

I close the door, and have just turned back around to make my way towards my mom's office, when I hear footsteps behind me. It's dark, and I can't see anything, but I'm pretty sure they are coming from somewhere on the left. I spin around: and come face to face with Rebecca Baxter.

Her eyes are alight with excitement, and she grabs my shoulders, practically shrieking in my ear in her very British accent.

"Hurry up! Hurry up! We have the best assignment ever!"

"Woah, calm down Bex! What's going on?" I ask her.

"We have a new assignment and your mum and Abby and Mr Solomon told me to come and get you," she says, all in one single breath.

"Ok..."

Bex's little shrieking fest jerked Liz out of her science induced reverie, and woke Macy up too. Through a closed door.

"Come in for a sec, Bex. Let's tell Macy and Liz." I say, trying to get Bex to come with me.

"Tell us what?" The door opens to reveal a grumpy looking Macy. "This had better be good, Cam. I was _asleep_." She glares at Bex and I menacingly.

"Sorry, sorry," Bex says, rolling her eyes. "But come on, we have a new assignment, and you're taking ages!"

Instantly, Macy's eyes brighten and she smiles.

"What! Why didn't you say so? Come on then! I'm ready." She looks at us expectantly.

I roll my eyes yet again at Bex, and we share a moment of mutual Macy despair.

Then Liz turns.

"Bex? When did you come?" she blinks.

Everyone groans, and I walk over and drag her out of her seat.

* * *

><p>We reach the office, and I knock lightly on the door. All of us wait outside, excitement clear on each of our faces.<p>

"Come in," I hear my mom say.

We walk in, me at the front, with the others behind. I spot Abby, who's sat on the window sill, and mentally scan what she's wearing, as I always do. There's no one more fashionable than my mom's younger sister.

Today, she's wearing a black pencil skirt with a fitted blazer, and high heeled knee length boots. All black, and she doesn't even look like a Goth. How she does it, still remains a mystery to all of us.

My mom is stood behind her desk, Mr Solomon next to her. She looks tired; there are bags under her eyes and her hair is pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, and she's looking at us like this is the last thing she wants to make us do. Mr Solomon, on the other hand, is looking as perfectly hot as ever. Although he does look a little solemn.

My eyes are drawn to the large screen behind them. There's a photo of a boy on it, who looks about my age. I'm pretty sure I've seen him before... He has dark messy hair and bright green eyes, like the sea just before a storm. I could get lost in them by just staring. Clearing my throat, I turn to mom.

"So, mom. What's going on?"

And then I remember his name.

"Please tell me it has nothing to do with a boy named Zachary Goode." I look at her, my eyes narrowed.

He's too handsome for his own good. All he's done for everyone stupid girl in the world to be madly in love with him is be the son of some filthy rich business man. Who sells paintings.

Yeah. I know.

Say he fought for world peace and earned a load of money and donated it to charity. Then I might consider him. But this? No.

Coming back to the matter at hand, however, I wait for my mother to reply. She takes a deep breath - she can probably feel the negative vibes coming off me in exceedingly strong waves.

"Yes," she sighs. "You four girls will be going undercover at Roseville High School, which Zachary currently attends. You will be acting as... let's say bodyguards, and you will be protecting him from anything out of the ordinary. Far too many attempts have been made on his life, and it is time he got some proper, first-class protection."

"This is so exciting! We'll finally actually get to meet the Zachary Goode!" Bex exclaims.

Did I mention that she seems to fall into the category of 'stupid girls who are madly in love with Zachary Goode'? She's not normally so wonderstruck by boys. Trust me. But the perfect Zachary Goode seems to be an exception. Who knows the reasoning behind it?

Macy and Liz, at least, seem to be taking my side.

"Bex, there is nothing special about boys. They are the inferior species - you should know better than to ogle at some _boy_. Be he rich and famous or hot and hunky, we are not interested. Okay? Although..." she pauses. "I suppose it would be quite cool to meet him. Sorry, Cammie," she adds, upon seeing my face. It seems Macy is not on my side after all. Liz, maybe?

"But Mrs Morgan... Do I have to? Can I please stay here? I need to finish my project for Dr Fibs."

Yes! I have an ally. If we can't all go then we won't be a team, and we can't do the assignment! Mom knows we work better when all four of us are together.

"No, Liz. You all need to go. I'll inform Dr Fibs about your assignment, he won't mind too much," mom replies.

Ok. Scratch that.

"Not to mention the fact that this little assignment will help you pass your final CoveOps exam!" Abby adds happily. "Oops. I wasn't supposed to tell you that," she says, glancing at my mom and Mr Solomon.

Mom rolls her eyes.

"Never mind, Abby. They were bound to find out anyway."

I have been quite silent throughout most of this. I haven't actually said anything. It seems that even Liz, after the mention of CoveOps exam, has gone over to the dark side. It seems that I will have to go through with this assignment. Plus, mom looks so tired and sad, I feel like I have to do it, whether I like it or not.

I give a deep sigh. I hope I will not regret this.

"Ok. When do we start?"

**A/N Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you have the time, and don't forget to favourite and follow and all that. Thank you so much! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Hello! I am updating way faster than I was expecting. I wan't going to update today, but for once, I had no homework, so I thought... why not? Here it is, I hope you like it! Just one thing: this fic will all be in Cammie's POV, with maybe occasional Zach.**

After our little 'meeting', we make our way back to our dorm room. Liz is chattering non-stop about what she'll take with us: ranging from good old coms units and hidden cameras to Macy's input of about five hundred different types of makeup.

"And of course, I'll have to take a lot of books if we want to look convincing," she finishes.

"Okay, calm down Liz," Bex says, laughing. "This isn't a field trip."

Liz goes pink.

"I know. I'm just _preparing_. I like to be prepared."

"We know," I say, poking her teasingly in the side. She smiles at me and shakes her head.

We all collapse onto our beds the moment we get back to our room, and I stare at the ceiling, in the exact same position as I was an hour ago. Soon, I hear Liz get up, and I sit up on my bed. She walks towards the middle of the room, a glint in her eye and a mischievous grin on her face. She brings her laptop with her, and sits on the floor, looking at us all expectantly. She's met with blank looks.

"What's a mission without a little _research_?" she asks, wagging her finger at us.

"Ah," Bex says, smirking. "I _see_."

Clambering off our beds, Macy and I join Bex and Liz on the floor, all of use crowded around that one screen which could hold so many answers.

"Hmm… let's see. What should we search first?" She opens up nothing other than the CIA database, and slowly types.

Z

A

C

She takes about five seconds to type each letter, tantalising us with new information just beyond our reach.

Macy throws her pillow at Liz.

"Hurry up!"

H

A

R

Y

She spends an age lifting her finger and pressing the space bar. I can tell she's enjoying herself immensely. I bet she read this the moment we came in.

"Liz!"

She chuckles and finishes typing it in.

Z-A-C-H-A-R-Y G-O-O-D-E

She presses enter.

Less than three seconds have passed when up comes thousands of little thumbnails. I catch sight of a few breaking news headlines, which look… interesting.

"Liz – look at these." I point them out. She enlarges a few of them and we all simultaneously huddle closer. What are we about to find out?

_'Highest ranking company of the past decade, Townsend and Goode, sold for billions of pounds.'_

This one is dated about twenty years previously, and alongside it is a somewhat grainy photograph of a man with his arm around a woman. You can only see their torsos; behind them is a large red brick building, and dozens of cameras and news reporters. I look closer at the photo, trying to discern their features. The man has dark wavy hair and deep blue eyes. He looks attractive even in this bad quality photograph. He has a brooding forehead and doesn't seem to be smiling. The woman, on the other hand, is beaming and looks positively radiant. She is beautiful, with dark red hair and striking green eyes.

These must be Zach's parents: Edward Townsend and Catherine Goode.

I glance at the others, and see that they have come to the same conclusion. The mouse drifts across the screen and lands on the heading. Liz clicks on it and masses of text appear on the screen.

Liz reads out loud, picking out the important parts.

"The multi-million company Townsend and Goode was sold by famous business man, Edward Townsend, on the 13th of June, 1996. His wife, Catherine Goode, helped investors buy considerable shares, essentially assisting her husband in securing the deal."

Macy coughs.

"Well, we already knew he was filthy rich."

Liz scrolls down. I scan the page, looking for anything else of interest, when I see something which makes my mouth drop open in shock.

"Stop!" I almost shout, grabbing Liz's arm. "Look!"

She stops scrolling and gasps.

_"Edward Townsend," I read, "owner of world-renowned company Townsend and Goode, was found dead this evening. Cause of death: Unknown."_

"It's only dated two weeks after his company was sold!" Bex exclaims.

I check the date of publication and see that she is right: 27th of June, 1996.

"Liz… could you go back and check Zach's date of birth?" Macy says. She looks nervous, almost as if she hopes that she is wrong. But wrong about what?

"Yeah, sure. Why?" she replies.

"Nothing. I just… I thought of something, but first I need you to check when he was born."

"Okay then…"

She goes back and clicks around for a bit, eventually finding the file of personal information. She opens it.

"Date of birth," Bex says. "19th February, 1997."

Bex, Liz and I look at Macy, confused.

I remember the dates again.

_13th June, 1996. Company sold._

_27th June 1996. Townsend dead._

_19th February 1997. Zach born._

The dates. It's something about the dates. There's something there which I just can't place. What has Macy realised? She's looking at me like she knows exactly what I'm thinking, and raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"Go on Cammie. You know it too!" she says.

Liz and Bex whirl around to look at me.

"Well?" Bex says. "Spill! What is it that we just aren't getting?"

The dates. _The dates._

And then it hits me.

"The company was sold… on the 13th of June, 1996, right?"

"Right," Liz says, nodding her head.

"And the husband dies, what, two weeks later? Isn't that a little bit of a coincidence? He just... dies. And now poor old Catherine has to run the business all by herself - _getting all the money._"

Liz cuts in, nodding with a look of dawning comprehension.

"So what if… _what if she killed him?_"

"Exactly," Macy and I say.

"And then…" I continue, getting to the most confusing part. "Then, Zach was born nine months later. _Nine months_. So that means Little Miss Cunning Wife was pregnant when they took that photo. It means that she didn't want Zach to know his father. And it means that she killed him."

We all look at each other, finally understanding what we didn't even realise we had to understand. Catherine Goode killed her husband before their son could know him.

But the real question remained.

Why?

**A/N Thank you for reading! What did you think? Please review, favourite and follow! It makes me so happy to know people are reading my story. I need to know that people are reading my story, or I might not carry on... Would you guys like me to keep going? If not, please say so! (But obviously not in the form of hate, please. Constructive criticism is fine though) GOODEbye :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Hello! Thank you all for the reviews! I was definitely not expecting a deletion threat to cause you guys to review! WOW. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Let the reading commence!**

A_ boy. Emerald green eyes. He is staring at me, his eyes full of something I cannot identify, and he comes closer; so close now, I can feel his warmth. Slowly, his eyes never wavering, his mouth meets mine. Softly, gently, so, so sweetly: his lips are comforting and inviting, and I want to -_

"Wake up Cammie!" I hear Bex's voice shout in my ear.

I jerk awake, blinking my sleep clouded eyes. What _was_ that dream? It was so... wow. I still have butterflies in my stomach. But the only thing is... Why on earth was I dreaming about Zachary Goode? And what's more, dreaming about him _kissing_ me? I shake my head, trying to clear my befuddled brain. I hate Zachary Goode, I tell myself. I was just tired last night, and my mind decided to conjure up strange fantasies inside my head which I have no interest in _whatsoever_. Understood, brain? No more weirdness.

Alright. Time to get up.

I climb out of bed, and see that Macey, Bex and Liz are already dressed and rearing to go; Macey is just applying another coat of deep red lipstick.

"Thanks for waking me up, guys. I really appreciate it." I say sarcastically. "How much time have I got to get ready now?" I sigh.

Macey scowls at me, and replies, "We didn't want to wake you up because you looked really happy. Smiling, murmuring. What were you dreaming about?" She smiles mischievously.

It doesn't help that I choose that moment to blush rather furiously.

"Erm, nothing. Nothing at all. Just, you know..." I trail off into nothingness, and grabbing the clothes that I spot at the end of my bed, I rush for the bathroom.

I'm ready in record time, and I wait for Macey to come out the bathroom.

She finally emerges.

"Now let's go!"

"Wait! Who has the address? Of where we're staying, I mean," Bex says quickly.

"It's here!" Liz says from her bed, her back to us, waving a piece of paper around in the air.

"Liz… What are you doing?"

"What?" she mumbles.

I walk over to her, and see that she's trying to stuff at least fifty books into her suitcase.

"Liz, you really don't need that much stuff. Calm down."

"I'm calm!"

"Okay. Just… you really don't need that many." I pick one up randomly out of the huge pile that still hasn't made it into the bag.

"I mean, what even is this?"

"That, Cammie, is a highly useful book which could come in handy whenever, so I am not leaving it behind." She glares at me.

"Alright, alright," I reply hastily, and stuff it into her suitcase.

Finally, after about an hour's delay, we make it out of the room. We'll be staying in an apartment about ten minutes away from the school, and by Liz's calculations, only around twenty minutes away from Zach's house – I mean, mansion – if we take the shortcuts.

Bex will be driving. This bodes well for no one, and I'm… slightly worried.

"Good morning, Mrs Morgan." I hear Macey greet my mother, who is standing by the main doors.

"Good morning, girls. Up early, I see? Good, good."

She seems distracted.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

She turns to look at me with a half surprised expression on her face, as if just realising I was here.

I walk over to her side, and put my hand on her shoulder.

"Mom?" I repeat gently.

She stares at me very carefully for a second, before drawing me in for a hug. I stand there, surprised, before wrapping my hands around her. She seems to need it.

She pulls away and looks me directly in the eyes.

"Cammie. I want you to be careful. Just be careful, alright? Promise me."

"I-I promise." She's looking at me so intensely, I stammer.

"Good girl," she whispers, before turning to the rest of the girls.

"I want you all to be careful, okay?"

"Yes, Mrs Morgan. We'll be fine," Bex smiles warmly at my mom, and she smiles return.

"Well, then. School starts tomorrow, girls. Enjoy!"

And with that, she ushers us out of the doors and out into the morning light.

* * *

><p>It's bright and sunny outside, and the sky is blue and clear, no clouds in sight. Because this is our own assignment, we have to get to the destination ourselves. Luckily, Bex can drive. Or, well, not very luckily.<p>

We all climb into her car, and she starts up the engine. I am feeling very apprehensive.

"Are you sure you know where you're going, Bex?" I ask hesitantly.

"Of course!" she exclaims. "Buckle up!"

She takes off, and we are flung backwards. I hear a muffled squeal and a thump – Liz seems to have fallen off her seat.

The journey takes barely any time at all, only half an hour, but I suppose this_ is_ a small town. We ride through the streets, looking for 'Daisy Crescent'.

"I can't see it anywhere!" Macey moans.

I look out of my window, and after driving around aimlessly for ten minutes, I hear Liz shout.

"There!" She points at a little street sign covered in ivy, with daisies growing in tufts along the edge of the pavement.

I see why it's called _Daisy_ Crescent.

Liz tells us that the Goode mansion is only two streets down from here.

"This is the _richer_ side of Rosewood, let's just say."

We finally roll to a stop outside a little cottage. It's a lime washed building, with roses around the windows and small pots of flowers sat in the windowsills.

"Are you sure this is it?" I ask. "It looks more like a bed and breakfast, or something."

Liz consults her piece of paper again.

"Yes, it seems like it."

"Not much of an apartment, though…"

"Oh, come on. It doesn't matter – it's cute." I shrug.

We lug our bags onto the porch, and I cautiously step forward to ring the doorbell. Almost straight away, it opens to reveal a plump, kindly looking woman with flour on her blue checked apron, rosy cheeks, and a wide smile.

"Good morning dears!"

"Hello," Bex replies.

"Am I correct in guessing that you're my four new girls?"

"Yes," I say, smiling. She seems lovely.

"Well, step right this way! I'm Mrs Darton. You lucky things have the top floor – completely private, and the sound doesn't carry either. I haven't had any nice people stay for a while now, but you girls don't look like you'll cause me any trouble!"

We all glance at each other, and follow her up the stairs. Emerging onto a wooden landing, she points us towards a white painted door, with a little wreath hanging on the hook.

"There you are. I do hope you enjoy your stay here! You're going to the school just down the road, aren't you? I've heard that that boy goes there, you know. What's he called…? Ah, Zachary Goode!"

I mentally shake my head.

"Oh, really!" I do my best to look surprised.

"Oh, yes, and a handsome one too, he is. I've seen him walking to town, and such." She smiles reminiscently, and then seems to come back to reality.

"Well, I'd better leave you to unpack!"

We troop into the room; four beds arranged so that two are on one side and the other two, opposite them. There's also a tiny little en suite bathroom, and a kitchenette, squeezed into the corner.

So it is a _sort_ of apartment, I guess.

I choose the bed under the window, and sit down on it, bouncing up and down. Bex takes the bed beside mine, and Macey and Liz, the ones opposite. It's all very cosy and comfortable.

* * *

><p>Today is the day. My very first day of high school.<p>

I look at the clock on the side table: it reads 7:26. Thankfully, I have plenty of time to get dressed. I slide out of bed, taking care not to wake the others, who are fast asleep. I'll wake them up once I'm ready – Macey is going to take ages, no doubt. I rummage through my suitcase until I find the uniform, and go to the bathroom, hugging it to my chest. It certainly is cold in the morning.

I walk into the bathroom, which resembles a human freezer, and try not to recoil when I catch sight of myself in the mirror above the sink.

My hair is a tangled mess - it looks like some pigeons – who were definitely in a hurry – had decided to convert my blonde hair into their very own nest, and I also have imprints on my face from where the pillow was creased. Great.

I close the door behind me and splash my face with icy water, after waiting five minutes for the tap to turn on. I pull on the uniform – it really is just _ravishing_. A blue and grey tartan skirt, white blouse, dark grey tie and navy blue blazer. Complete with the school logo: a sword and three silver crowns, enclosed in a shield.

I seize my hairbrush which for some odd reason is now sat on the toilet seat, and yank it through my hair. However, after a while, I admit defeat, and just tug my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head. Pausing only to apply some mascara, I run out of the bathroom.

I see that everyone is awake by now.

"Cammie, you could've –

Macey turns her head to look at me and opens her mouth in horror.

"No! That hair! No makeup! Come here right now!"

I nervously walk over to her, and she sits me down in front of the dresser. She takes some concealer and foundation and dabs it on my face. It feels cool and soothing. Then, she smears some gloss on my lips, and to finish off, dusts some powder on my cheeks. I can always count on Macey.

"Much better. We'll keep the hair as it is, as it actually looks nice."

"Thanks Macey."

She smiles at me, satisfied, and then turns to go to the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Everyone is ready by eight, and we go downstairs, and out the front door. I spot Mrs Darton in the kitchen, and the scent of frying bacon wafts towards me.<p>

"Bye, Mrs Darton!" I call.

She turns and smiles.

"Have a nice day, dears!"

We all get into Bex's car again, and I prepare myself for the ride. I grip the seat and close my eyes, feeling the car rock beneath me, and Liz bumping into my shoulder.

"We're here!" Bex says happily.

Deeming it safe enough to open my eyes, I let go of the seat as we roll to a stop outside the looming gates. I struggle to get out – I do not want to be in a car with Bex any longer than I have to. She is my best friend, and I love her, but she is the worst driver I have ever seen.

My first impression is that the school looks very posh. Wide, vast, sweeping gardens; flowers everywhere in riots of colour; huge glass windows; massive, imposing, dark mahogany doors.

All of us stand in a little huddle outside the gates.

"Oh, come on," I say exasperatedly.

I march off towards the main entrance and they trot along behind me. I roll my eyes.

I open the doors, and see a woman sat at the reception desk: she has tightly curled blond hair, a round face, and bright, cherry red lipstick. Her cheeks are dusted with so much rosy pink blusher, she looks sunburnt.

I make my way towards her, telling the others to wait there.

"Excuse me?" I say, tentatively. She looks up from her computer and gives me a large smile.

"Hello. What can I do for you?"

"My name is Cameron Morgan and that's Rebecca Baxter, Macey McHenry and Elizabeth Sutton. We're new students here?"

"Ah, yes! I remember! Very good application forms you young ladies had. Had no problems getting in. I'm Miss Rosemary. I just need to print you off your timetables. I won't be a second, just wait there."

She gives me another smile, and is about to turn to the printer behind her, when she goes pinker than her blusher. Her gaze drifts off me and lands on something somewhere behind me. She shuffles her papers unnecessarily, and says, rather breathlessly,

"Hello, Mr Goode! How can I help you?"

I spin around, my bag banging against my hip. _Zachary Goode?_ This is so not how I wanted him to see me for the first time. My hair's probably a mess, and this uniform gives me no figure at all.

Wait, what? Am I actually bothered about how he sees me?

He is more muscly than I thought he would be. His arm is flung over his shoulder, holding his blazer, and his top two buttons are undone. His shirt is close fitting, and his arms are very well defined. He is tall; I have to tilt my head up to meet his eyes. His dark brown, almost black hair is that kind of messy which looks like he just rolled out of bed in the morning and ran his hand through it. And his eyes... his mesmerising eyes are every shade of green imaginable: the kind of green which reminds you that spring is coming, the kind of green which changes colour the longer you look at it; bright green, golden flecks, which sparkle in the sunlight streaming through the windows whenever he turns his head.

"Hey, gorgeous. What's your name?" he says in a deep, smooth as chocolate voice. He runs his eyes appraisingly over me, and I have a strong urge to slap him.

"Cammie Morgan. And I don't particularly like being talked to like that," I say, narrowing my eyes. _Or looked at like that._

"Like what? I make it my duty to talk to beautiful girls, and you certainly are beautiful. Plus, my friends over there," he points to a cluster of tall, equally hot boys, "wanted to know who these new arrivals were. Meaning you and your friends, of course," he nods his head towards Macey, Bex and Liz. "Which school did you move from?" he asks, cocking his head towards the side.

"The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women." I say stiffly.

"Nope, never heard of it."

"I didn't think you would have done," I tell him, shrugging my shoulders in an effort to appear nonchalant.

He smirks, and it's one of those 'I know something you don't know' smirks that drive me insane.

"Well, I can tell you don't really feel like talking right now. See you around, Gallagher Girl."

He winks at me before turning around and going back to his friends, and I feel my cheeks turn warm against my will.

**A/N Thank you for reading! I understand that this chapter may have been slightly boring... but it was needed. It was a lot longer than I normally write! And Zach made an appearance! Please review, favourite and follow if you have the time - I would really love that :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Sorry for going so long without updating! I'm back, though, and I have sorted out the whole plot for this story. I'm aiming for around 20 chapters. What do you guys think?**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews, favourites and follows! Especially thank you to miaadventure who always reviews wonderful things! Now, please enjoy my next chapter!**

I watch his retreating back for a whole minute before turning back to my friends. They are all waiting for me to say something.

"Well, at least we know exactly who we're protecting here." I try to aim for 'casual and not bothered', but I don't think I quite pull it off.

The thing is… I feel a bit shaken. I didn't expect myself to be so girly around him; so vulnerable to his boyish-ness.

Bex looks me over, and is about to open her mouth to say something – no doubt about Zach – but then she seems to think better of it and dismisses it.

"Let's get going shall we? Thanks Miss Rosemary," she adds, taking the timetables from her and distributing them between us.

I look through it: first and second period - double history. Well. That's not too bad, I suppose. But I hope _he's_ not there.

I'm disappointed to find that none of us have the same lessons. Liz has double chemistry – which she is very happy about, might I add – Macey has English and Bex has maths. Poor Bex – she detests maths.

On our timetables are also our locker numbers. Thankfully, they're all close together. We wave to each other as we go our separate ways, and as I'm walking down the corridor, the bell rings shrilly, right above my head. My ears are ringing – our bell at home is much nicer.

If I was at the Gallagher Academy, I'd be having Culture and Assimilation with Madame Dabney. I could learn how to dance a perfect waltz, or how to speak polite Mandarin. But instead, I'm stuck here doing _history_, and it's probably going to be nothing like Countries of the World with Professor Smith.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't notice the boy stood in front of me until it's a bit too late. I collide with something very solid and very much alive, and fly backwards, landing in a heap on the floor. Excellent. Just what I needed.

I blink my eyes, trying to clear the stars winking at me. This floor is _not_ soft.

I see a hand descend, offering a help up, and gladly take it. It's warm and dry and distinctly _male_, and my hand fits comfortably inside as he pulls me up off the floor. I have a funny tingly sensation in my fingers, and my stomach is full of butterflies.

I look up at my saviour. He has wavy brown hair, and I want to run my hands through it to see if it's really as soft as it looks. His eyes are lovely, and he smiles at me. He has an easy smile, one that looks as if he smiles a lot. It's a rather gorgeous smile, too, but then I'm probably not the best judge of that, as this distractingly attractive smile is being directed at me.

Wow. I just thought smile a _lot_.

"Are you ok? I am so sorry!" He looks concerned, and my stomach gives an appreciative swoop. He has a low, smooth voice, full of warmth and friendliness.

"I - I'm fine. Thank you for asking." I give him a grateful smile, and he instantly relaxes.

"Great! What's your name? I'm Josh. Josh Abrams." He gives me another dazzling smile.

"Cammie. Cammie Morgan. Nice to meet you Josh," I say. And it is. Here's proof that not all boys are jerks like Zachary Goode – some of them can be kind and gorgeous at the same time. All the same, I'm having far too many close encounters with hot boys for my liking.

I realise he hasn't let go of my hand yet and my butterflies return full force. I realise that I don't have much experience with boys – make that _no_ experience – and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do now. Should I drop his hand first? Or will he? What should I say?

I'm spared the agony of choosing as he drops my hand and turns to look at me. He gives me another smile – that smile should _so_ be made illegal.

"Nice to meet you too, Cammie," he says.

Josh takes me to the history room, introducing me to his friends along the way.

"This is DeeDee." He gestures towards a pretty girl with short blonde hair and thin arms. She flashes me a smile and gives me a small wave. I realise that anything that's not her uniform is pink: pink headband, pink lipstick, pink nail polish, pink bag.

"Hi!" she says happily, smiling her large, adorable smile.

I smile back at her, and say hi, but for some reason I feel oddly… jealous? But I can't feel jealous of DeeDee! She's totally un-hateable, and I barely know her. And somehow that makes it worse.

They deposit me outside the room, and turn to go to their lesson. Josh stops in the middle, however, and turns back to me.

"I'll meet you here for lunch?" he asks, all smiles and adorable hesitancy.

"Sure." I smile back at him, and turn to go inside.

* * *

><p>Another hot guy. <em>Another<em> _one_. That's what I first see when I enter the class room.

He's tall and quite young – twenty four at most – and he's wearing a pristine suit and tie. The hair somewhat ruins the image of perfect neatness however: his chestnut brown locks are strewn all over the place, artfully styled into a casual bedhead.

Wow.

And don't even get me started on the face. All hard planes and chiselled jaw, this guy, with slight stubble around his jaw and lips… this man is seriously drool-worthy. He's stood facing the board, writing something down.

Is this guy _my teacher_?

I snap out of my hot guy induced haze before anyone realises, and make my way towards an empty seat, next to a beautiful girl with glossy auburn hair. I take out my stuff; everyone is quiet. Uncharacteristically so. I'd have thought everyone would be noisy and typically high school-y. But no. And I'm not entirely sure it doesn't have something to do with this guy at the front.

The girls are whispering and giggling, and the boys are looking sullen and annoyed. I try not to laugh; I guess this lesson won't be too bad after all.

And of course, I spoke too soon.

Enter, Zachary Goode. The undercurrent of chatter stops completely, and the teacher – he just _cannot_ be the teacher – finally turns around. His eyes are a piercing blue.

"Good morning, class. I'm your new history teacher, Mr White." He turns to Zach. "Would you care to take a seat?"

"'Course, sir." He smiles charmingly at Mr White, and strolls leisurely towards the last empty chair. Which is next to me.

"Gallagher Girl!" he whispers in mock surprise. "We meet again."

I give a non-committal grunt. The girl beside me gives a little cough, and I look at her. She looks straight ahead and I shrug.

Zach sits down on the chair next to me, stretching out his legs and playing with his pen. He's wearing a letter jacket – shows he's on the varsity football team. I shake my head. Typical jock.

Mr White continues as if he wasn't interrupted.

"This semester, we'll be doing all about the history of Virginia. Rosewood, particularly. It'll be nice to see if you guys can tell me something about your family history – I daresay they've been here a long time!"

He laughs even though it wasn't funny, and a few other – girls – join him.

"Anyway. You'll be paired up by how you're sitting to make it easier."

Wait. What?

"So… Zach, is it? You'll be with Cameron -"

"Cammie," I correct automatically. I feel the heat rush to my cheeks as everyone turn to look interestedly at me, especially the auburn girl next to me. I feel a sort of hostility in her gaze, but I don't look at her. I wonder what her problem is.

"I-I mean, you can just call me Cammie."

Mr White smiles at me, a flash of sparkly white teeth and twinkling eyes.

"Okay, so Zach, you're with Cammie here. And, next to Cammie is -?"

"Adele." The auburn girl beside me finally speaks up. She has a throaty, almost hoarse voice, with a touch of an accent. French, I think. I feel her glare at me again, and I'm struck by how gorgeous she is. She glances at Zach, eyes wide, and winks at him – are they together? He smiles at her and then looks back towards Mr White.

"Of course. Adele, you'll be with… Jake?" The boy next to Adele nods. He's tall with white blond hair and a smug expression on his face.

"Sorry everyone, I'm awful with names. I'll learn them all soon enough, though, don't worry!" Mr White says.

And then I realise – I hadn't told him my name. So how did he know it? I'm sure I've never seen him before or him, me. I shake it off. He must have just looked at the register beforehand or something…

Once everyone is sorted into pairs, Mr White gets everyone's attention again. He lifts his left hand up, and waves it in the air. That's when I notice a ring on his third finger. It's large and quite ugly, really – a dull gold band with a blood red ruby sat on top. I can't make it out, but it looks as if there's something engraved onto the ruby. I'd better have a closer look as soon as I can.

"Now that you're all in pairs, please decide what you're going to do." he says, barely having to raise his voice before the volume dies. "Remember, this project can be on anything at all: about your family in Rosewood, Rosewood's history – just make sure you have facts and dates!"

He gestures for everyone to carry on talking, and gradually the hum of conversation builds up again.

I turn to Zach.

"Should we do your family, then?"

He smirks at me.

"Why not yours?"

"Because I'm not from Rosewood and I don't know anything about Rosewood."

I am and I do, but he doesn't know that.

"Well, okay then." I'm pleased to see he's looking a little reluctant. Good.

"At least that's sorted. Is there anything interesting about your family?" I ask, smiling innocently at him. He gives me a narrow look.

"Nope. Just a boring family business and a lot of dead people."

"Er… Right."

He smirks at me again – another one of those infuriating 'I know something you don't' smirks.

"Mhmm. When are we going to start it?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"You could come to mine tonight, and we could make a start?"

"What?" I look at him, unsure I heard properly.

"You. Come to mine. Tonight. For history project."

"Oh. Okay."

Wait… Did I just agree?

"Great. Looks like a history date to me. Excellent!" He gives me one last smirk and then the bell goes.

There's a mad rush towards the exit, and instead of being caught in the mass flood of students, I wait until it clears. I spot Zach waiting outside the door… I turn around and see beautiful Adele smiling at him. She shoulders her bag and walks towards him – even her walk is gorgeous. Hips sashaying right and left, as if she's on a cat walk. Even the uniform looks good on her.

And then she walks up to Zach and kisses him square on the lips.

**A/N I hope you liked it! Grrr Adele. She annoys me so much and I made her up! Please favourite, follow and REVIEW! What did you think about the 'history date'? What's going to happen? Review and tell me what you think will happen next! Thank you, and see you next time! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Hello everyone! How are you all? I know I haven't been very active, and I am sorry. I really wanted to write but last week, this week and next week are full of tests and revision, so I won't be updating for a while. Luckily I got some time to write this though! Next update will be as soon as I can make it. Now, please enjoy! :) PS Thank you for the reviews, favourites and follows!**

Huh. Well.

I tear my eyes away from the kissing couple blocking my way and try to formulate a way to get out of this rather awkward situation.

I should have _known_ they would be together. Of course they would be! The football jock and what can only be the high school Mean Girl, Queen Bee, whatever you want to call her. (Yes, I've seen the film. Don't judge.) It's just so typical – and makes my job infinitely harder. How am I supposed to 'protect' him if he's got a girlfriend who glares at me if I so much as look at him?

Great. Just great.

I steel myself, and then march forwards and shove my way past them, adding in an extra little elbow jab in Zach's side. That was for leading me on, you dumbass.

They break apart and turn to look at me, Zach wincing and looking slightly sheepish, and Adele full on glaring at me, her arm oh-so-casually still around Zach's neck. As _if_.

I look at them and smile sweetly.

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry! I didn't see you there. Please, don't stop on my account. Carry on, carry on!" I wave my arm in a wide, sweeping gesture, missing Zach's nose by an inch, and then turn on my heel and walk away.

* * *

><p>"Ugh, Bex, it was so <em>awkward<em>!" I moan. "What am I going to do now? I don't even _like_ him, yet he still manages to get under my skin and make me feel… _jealous_. I hardly _know_ him!"

She gives me a sympathetic look and pats me on the arm. We're on our way to lunch, and Bex just finished telling me about her wonderful maths lesson and a certain hot blonde idiot called Grant. So it's my turn to grumble now.

"Come on, let's go find a table," she says. Then she turns round so fast that I almost slam into her. She looks at me suspiciously.

"Weren't you supposed to meet Josh for lunch?"

Damn.

"I forgot! He probably thinks I'm a horrible person now and – " Bex starts shaking her head and drags her finger across her throat, as if to say 'No! Shut up!'

"What…" I feel a hand on my shoulder and whirl round.

And come face to face with Josh Abrams.

"Josh! Oh! Er… Hi."

"Hey." He grins. "You didn't think I'd forgotten, had you?" I decide not to point out that actually, _I _had.

"No, of course not!" I smile back at him, and hear Bex snigger behind me. Idiot.

"Josh, this is my friend Bex. Bex this is Josh." I glare at her, and she pretends not to notice.

"Josh! How _lovely_ to meet you. Absolutely splendid. Cammie told me all about your encounter this morning!" She grabs her hand and starts shaking it, and I stare at her, mortified. What is she _doing_? I can't help but let a little laugh escape though, and I end up just shaking my head and smiling. Josh looks slightly alarmed, but takes it in his stride and shakes her hand right back.

We all end up going to stand in the queue together, and I spot two familiar faces coming towards us. Macey and Liz shove their way through the slowly increasing crowd of students waiting for their lunch, and stand beside us.

"You must be Josh," Macey says. She scrutinises him for a moment, and then turns to me.

"I've seen cuter," she shrugs.

"_Macey_!"

Josh chuckles.

Liz smiles at him and introductions are made yet again, and we finally get to the serving station.

Finally. I'm starving.

I quickly pile my plate with a questionable looking sandwich and wilted salad, and grab a bottle of water and dump it on my tray. Now, where to sit…

Luckily, Josh has already sat down at a huge table, and I see he is surrounded by football players and a certain pink clad, blonde haired petite.

And then I see Zach.

Which can only mean Adele.

_Perfect_.

I trudge up to the table and plonk down on the chair at the end, which incidentally, is right opposite Zachary Goode, and right next to Josh. How they got here before me, I have no idea. Zach must have worked that green eyed charm one of the cooks. Poor things, they didn't stand a chance.

The red haired glarer sits beside him, eating nothing but a plate of lettuce, and Deedee the pink obsessed sits next to Josh, leaving three spaces free for Macey, Bex and Liz, thankfully. I see them holding their trays and looking around, and when Liz sees me and more importantly, who I'm with, her mouth falls open in surprise. She quickly turns to Bex and Macey and whispers something to them. Something about Zach, no doubt.

They come over, and sit down, Bex smirking and Macey frowning, Liz in the middle looking slightly confused. Everyone begins munching on their food, and it's deathly quiet. I have no idea what to say.

Zach breaks the silence.

"So, Gallagher Girl." I glance up at him and hope that my face conveys my thoughts. Did he have to call me that in front of everyone? But he carries on unperturbed, and I let out a huff before turning back to my less than satisfactory food.

"What do you like to do in your spare time?"

"Uh, what?" Did he just ask me what my _hobby_ was?

"What are your hobbies? Interests? Anything?"

Yes. Yes he did.

"I don't know…" I can't very well tell him about my pavement artist-ness now, can I?

"I like to read, I guess. And uh… other stuff." God, this is so embarrassing. I feel my cheeks heat up and bite my lip.

For someone who's supposed to blend in, I haven't stood out more. Everyone is looking at me, or in Adele's case, glaring – what is her problem? – but I don't say anything else and quickly Josh starts talking about some random thing to Deedee, and everyone suddenly starts to talk. I glance back up at Zach and catch him looking at me, a half smirk on his face combined with something I can't identify. His expression is unreadable, inscrutable – completely blank. Did I say something to offend him?

The rest of the day passes in a haze of books and teachers and classrooms. By the end, I'm ready to retire from high school and go on temporary leave from life. I'm so _tired_. And it's not even over yet. I still have to go over to Zach's house. I wonder if I'll find anything useful…

I wait for Bex and Macey and Liz at the main doors, and tell them about my 'date' with Zach.

"Ooh! Make sure you dig around for some stuff," Liz says. "It'll be easier because you're doing about his family's past, so there's bound to be some stuff on his parents. He might even tell you himself." She gives me a knowing look which I try to ignore. I nod and promise them all that I will, and then they go to the car while I wait in the car park for Zach.

And wait.

And wait.

It's almost four, which means he's nearly half an hour late. Everybody seems to have gone home now, and the school is eerily quiet. Where _is_ he?

Stupid idiot. Of course he was lying! How could I have been so naïve? I pull out my phone and start texting Bex to ask her if she could come back and pick me up, when I feel someone touch my back. I whirl round and throw my fist forwards, coming into contact with something rather hard. There's a huge cracking noise and a yell of pain and blood spurts from Zachary Goode's nose.

_Shit_.

I gasp and stuff my phone back into my pocket, rummaging for some tissues and apologising over and over again.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to! I didn't know who it was and… Oh my god, I'm _so_ sorry!"

He waves me away and pinches his nose, wincing in pain as he touches his broken nose.

I grab a fistful of tissues and hang my head.

"Sorry."

"'S okay" he says after a moment. He looks at me for a second and then bursts into laughter.

"What?" I ask in surprise.

"Nothing, nothing." He looks at me again and starts chuckling again, despite the fact that I've broken his nose.

"It's just…" He shakes his head, still smiling. "Trust you to be the girl who knows self-defence."

Oh.

"Uh… Sorry about that."

"Stop apologising, Gallagher Girl! I'm fine."

"Well, at least let me clean you up. You're dripping blood everywhere." I wave the tissues in front of his face.

"Gee, I wonder why," he says sarcastically. I stare at him, unimpressed, and he shrugs.

I rise up onto my tiptoes and carefully raise my hand and hold his chin, dabbing at his nose. The worst of the flow has stopped, but there's still a steady drip of ruby red. His chin is rough with tiny prickles of stubble, but his skin is still soft. I realise how close we are, and I blink. His nose is just a few centimetres away from mine. I can smell his scent – shampoo, a hint of woody warmth, and simply _boy_. I force myself to breathe normally, and try to keep myself from closing my eyes.

I mop up the rest of the blood. His nose is a delicate shade of purple, and his eyes are so green, they're like spring and summer and drops of dew on a winter morning. He stares into my eyes, and we don't move. There's silence, nothing except the whoosh of the wind around my ears and our breathing. My heart is beating like a drum inside my chest – what's happening to me? This is an assignment. I blink, trying to clear my head. _He_ is an assignment. And I don't like him, remember?

I step backwards and drop my hand away from his face, a bunch of blood sodden tissues clutched in my fist. I thrust the tissues towards him, and just like that, the magical moment is broken.

I step backwards a few more paces and he does the same, so we're a respectable distance away from each other. He clears his throat.

"Sorry," he says gruffly. "Sorry I kept you waiting. Adele… She, uh… What I mean is…"

I'm suddenly very annoyed. What is _wrong_ with him?

"What you mean is that you can't let me come over tonight because your girlfriend wants to come over instead and she is your girlfriend so how could you say no? And you didn't really know how to tell me so you decided to be 'late' instead, and now it's really awkward and you just want to go." I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm down. Why am I so angry all of a sudden?

"Am I right?"

He looks at me, an apologetic and for some reason, slightly angry expression on his face. _He's_ angry? I was the one who waited for half an hour!

"Yeah. I guess you _are_ right," he says shortly.

"Great, well. I need to go and –"

"At least let me drop you off."

_What_? Doesn't he understand _anything_?

"No. Isn't Adele waiting?"

"She went."

"Right. Well, sorry, but no. I can walk, I live close by anyway. Sorry for breaking your nose."

I look back up at him for just a second, and then I turn around and walk out of the car park.

**A/N Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! Sorry for the little s-word, but I trust you all don't mind too much. And we _finally_ had some Zammie! Poor Zach... What will happen next? Stay with me to find out :) Please favourite and follow and review if you have the time! Thank you, and good night.**


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